


Wrong But You're So Much Fun

by sneksonaplane



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Feminization, M/M, Panty Kink, that's literally it - Freeform, this is an excuse for daddy kink filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:28:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4330332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneksonaplane/pseuds/sneksonaplane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first night Stiles added Ian on snapchat, they sexted for half the night and he came three times. And now Stiles was...here. He’d been talking to the older man for three weeks now and was officially hooked. It wasn’t like they had anything official going, there certainly weren’t feelings involved, they were just friends who sexted a lot. And talked every night, usually until Stiles passed out from exhaustion. And he called Ian Daddy sometimes when they messaged each other. No big deal.</p><p>OR</p><p>the one where Stiles runs a porn blog and has a major daddy kink, and he starts anonymously sexting with Peter without either of them realizing it. Both of them use nicknames to avoid giving out their real names on the internet, and Peter's fake name/nickname that he uses when he first starts talking to Stiles is "Ian" because I'm garbage. Expect errors and poor formatting because I'm betaless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Messages between Stiles and Peter on tumblr are in quotation marks, texts they send each other via snapchat are bolded.
> 
> Stiles' real/full name in this fic is Kasimierz and he usually sexts like a straight white boy.
> 
> This will definitely have formatting/grammar errors, and probably switches tenses because I do that all the fucking time and am too lazy to fix it.

“What are you looking at?”

Stiles flinched so hard he almost dropped his phone, fumbling with it and rushing to close the blog he’d been scrolling through.

“Dude! Lurk much? Give a guy a little warning next time before you creep up behind him.”

Derek didn’t even have the grace to look apologetic for startling him, shooting the teen his typical brooding look with a hint of confusion visible. There was no way he couldn’t sense the near panic he’d sent Stiles into by almost catching him looking at a porn blog for chrissakes, Stiles knew by now that werewolves could smell things like panic and embarrassment, his two main emotions right now. Luckily the wolf dropped the subject before Stiles had to come up with another way to dodge the question of what he’d been staring at on his phone screen so intently for the last ten minutes or so. 

He knew it wasn’t bright to be viewing porn at a pack meeting, surrounded by supernatural creatures who could smell his arousal and hear his heartbeat speed up if he got too turned on, but. He was a teenage boy, okay? He had needs. Needs that sent him sneaking off into the kitchen while the rest of the pack was gathered in the other room, needs that had him opening up tumblr on his phone to view his current favorite porn blog. It wasn’t something he usually did, recklessly opening his very private, very adult-only tumblr page in front of a bunch of werewolves- he wasn’t about to risk anyone finding out what kind of porn he liked, or worse, the pictures he posted of himself on his blog. That could only end in disaster. Recently he’d become a little too addicted to tumblr though, or, more specifically, to one certain tumblr blogger.

It started innocently enough (not innocently, technically, but it had started normally enough at least.) He’d gotten an ask from one of his followers about the certain...kinks Stiles posted about. Some messages he never gave a second thought or even replied to, since most of them were just older guys who thought they could send him filthy asks about what a “cute little twink” or “naughty boy” he was and have him dropping to his knees and calling them Daddy instantly. Which, no. That wasn’t how it worked. So he ignored most of those asks except on nights when he was home alone and just horny enough to want to listen to cliched dirty talk from desperate dudes while he jerked off. This one had been different, though. 

He remembered being surprised to receive an ask from someone who knew how to type in coherent sentences that didn’t sound like lines out of a bad porno. It had simply read, “You certainly have some mature interests for a boy your age. How old are you, 16? Young men like you should be more careful about sharing their depraved desires for people all over the internet to see- your filthy thoughts and cute little body will attract countless predators and nasty old men, I’m sure.” Stiles had been torn between the beginnings of arousal and indignance at the slightly condescending tone the message seemed to imply, and he’d responded immediately. 

“arent u one of those predators or nasty old men if ur on my blog sending me asks tho? and maybe I like knowing older dudes jerk it to my pics.”

Out of curiosity, he’d taken a look at the guy’s own blog after sending his reply, and woah. There had been a lot of daddy kink, of course- most of the people who followed Stiles were into that, considering the majority of his posts revolved around it. But there were also quite a few selfies of the guy, nothing that showed his face, just pictures of hard, sculpted abs, and a cock that almost literally made Stiles drool. So yeah, it wasn’t all that different from most of the blogs that followed the teen and sent him asks, but the content was altogether more...sophisticated than what he was used to? He snorted at the thought- nothing about this should be sophisticated. But this guy’s blog was in comparison to some Stiles had seen. At least, it gave off less of a “desperate, lonely chronic masturbator” vibe and more of a “hot, naturally dominant daddy” vibe. And did he mention hot? Because the man was hot, holy shit. He’d followed the guy back before opening his inbox to see what kind of response his snarky answer had garnered. 

“Sweetheart, I’m far worse than all those perverts I’m sure you have drooling after you, trust me. Predator might actually be somewhat of an accurate description of me though, especially now that I seem to have taken an interest in a certain very underaged young man. You get off on exposing your body to strangers and being used as a jerk off fantasy by dirty older men, hm?”

Stiles had felt himself flushing at the ask, his cock twitching with interest even while he snorted at the vaguely menacing part about this dude being somehow “worse” than his other pervy followers. What was that supposed to mean? Was it supposed to be intimidating? Seductive? Seductivtimidating? 

“dude how young do u think i am rlly. I’m almost 18. and duh. knowing creepers like you get hard looking at my pics makes me hard”

He got another ask from sexy mystery daddy almost as soon as he’d sent his response, and they’d quickly escalated to a semi-regular back and forth conversation that consisted of lots of teasing and innuendos, with a bit of real conversation thrown in. It was a week after receiving sexy mystery daddy’s first ask (he told Stiles his name was Ian, and in return Stiles had introduced himself as Kas because he won’t share his nickname with people online, “Stiles” is too uncommon and some stalker could find him with it, but he’s also not about to tell anyone his real name is Kasimierz, dammit. Still, the teenager couldn’t help thinking of him as ‘sexy mystery daddy’) when they switched to talking via snapchat texts and photos. Lots of photos. The first night Stiles added Ian on snapchat, they sexted for half the night and he came three times. And now Stiles was...here. He’d been talking to the older man for three weeks now and was officially hooked. It wasn’t like they had anything official going, there certainly weren’t feelings involved, they were just friends who sexted a lot. And talked every night, usually until Stiles passed out from exhaustion. And he called Ian Daddy sometimes when they messaged each other. No big deal. He definitely wasn’t going to risk another close call by looking at either of their tumblrs around the pack or even opening his snapchat messages in public, though. He could abstain from gawking at Ian’s perfect body for most of the day if he had to. No big deal.

 

A week later, Stiles woke up for school and checked his phone to find a snapchat notification alerting him that he’d received a photo from ‘dadw0lf69’ (he’d teased the man for days about the frankly awful username after first hearing it.) When he opened it, he was greeted with the frankly glorious sight of Ian’s hard dick, with one big, strong looking hand wrapped around the base. The accompanying text read “Guess what day it is?”

He responded with a photo of himself palming his cock through the boxers he’d slept in, already semi-hard just from one photo. He couldn’t fit his actual reply into the little text box on his snap, so he sent the photo along with a separate, text only message.

**The day u make me late for school by sexting me at 7 am?**

Ian’s response came quickly enough that Stiles knew he’d just been waiting, phone in hand, to reply once Stiles did. 

**No, you brat. Today marks exactly four weeks since we started talking.**

He would not acknowledge the brief fluttering sensation he felt in his stomach upon reading that particular message, nope. No butterflies or romance or feelings here. 

**Aw, so u sent me a dick pic to commemorate it? how sweet**

This time the reply came in the form of another picture, this one of his cock at a slightly different angle that exposed those ridiculous abs too, a bead of precum visible at the tip of his cock. 

**Don’t pretend you don’t want this.**

And, well, he did. Damn his raging teenage hormones and his unfairly sexy daddy. He sent back a photo of his now tented boxers, just the bottom half of his face visible in the selfie so Ian would see the exaggerated pout on his lips. 

**if I jerk off im gonna b late**

Stiles shouldn’t even have been surprised at the response he received- he’d already learned that Ian loved teasing him and making him wait to cum.

**Who said I would let you jerk off this morning? Go get ready for school, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want to make you late.**

And a second later-

**I, on the other hand, don’t have to worry about being late for anything.**

Followed by a short video of that same large hand, this time stroking slowly up and down the length of that mouthwatering dick, Ian’s hips fucking up into the tight grip of his hand at the end of the video. 

**ur the worst daddy ever**

Stiles groaned and left his phone to go take a hasty shower that would hopefully give him a chance to get his boner under control, but not before seeing Ian’s reply in the form of another video of him jerking off, his hand moving significantly faster now, a soft but deep moan of pleasure audible as the older man rubbed his thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the precum that had formed at the tip.

**Talk to you later, baby <3**

Seriously. 

Worst. Daddy. Ever. 

Stiles didn’t receive anything else from Ian on snapchat that day while he was at school, and he’d barely refrained from hiding in a bathroom stall third period long enough to send a message of his own, maybe something where he begged a certain daddy to talk him through getting off in the boy’s bathroom. Ian probably wouldn’t stand for that, anyways. He always came off as oddly concerned about Stiles’ progress in school and the rest of his life, insisting that the teenager put his phone away and concentrate on schoolwork the few times Stiles had let slip that he was avoiding an assignment or studying in favor of sexting. Once he’d even talked Stiles out of staying on tumblr all night and actually getting enough sleep for the first time in months so he wouldn’t be exhausted at school and lacrosse the next day. It was nice, but Stiles tried not to overanalyze it. Sure, they had a sex thing going on and he called Ian Daddy because it turned them both on, but the dude wasn’t really his Daddy or boyfriend or anything other than a sort-of friend. He didn’t care about Stiles, it was just his natural caring, if controlling, daddy dom nature showing itself. Came with the job description of being a real Daddy/Dominant. And Stiles certainly didn’t care about him. Nope. Just his dick. Which was a totally different matter. 

He really was determined not to engage in anything inappropriate or Ian related outside the privacy of his bedroom, though, so that helped motivate him to keep his mind out of the gutter for most of the day. It wasn’t until he’d gotten home after school that he opened snapchat and typed out a quick message.

**so u totally owe me an orgasm for teasing me this morning**

**Oh, do I?**

He might not be able to see or hear Ian, but Stiles just knew there was a smug grin on his face when he sent his response, could almost hear the taunting lilt in the man’s voice.

He wasn’t the only one who knew how to be a tease, though.

**yes. u made me hard and then i didnt have time to fix it and had to go to school when all i could think about was ur cock in me**

**daddy my boy parts are all achy**

He quickly followed the messages with a picture of him biting his lip, his shirt already off and a hand in his pants, with the text reading “Please?”

Not surprisingly, Ian’s reply was instantaneous. He was a sucker for Stiles’ needy little boy act, not that he’d ever admit it out loud. 

**Aww, is daddy’s baby feeling like a horny little slut? Stop touching yourself, slut. And take your pants off. Let Daddy take a look at your boy parts.**

Stiles pushed his jeans and boxers down his legs, kicking them away carelessly. He fell back with a huff so he was laying on his back in bed, taking another photo that now showed his hard cock and adding the words “Yes sir” before sending it to Ian with a smirk. His daddy was so easy.

His smirk fell away at the next message he opened, a flush starting to heat up his face. 

**Good boy. Keep your hands away from that pretty cock of yours, sweetheart. All you’re going to do for a bit is play with your nipples. If I was there I’d pinch them until you made the cutest, hurt little whimpers and cries. I want you to do that for me now, baby.**

He did exactly that, imagining what it would be like with the older man’s hands on him instead, Ian’s thick fingers tugging cruelly at both of his nipples, one at a time, until Stiles was squirming away from the pain and arching into it simultaneously, the sensation going straight to his cock. He only stopped once he saw another message appear on snapchat.

**Daddy wants to watch you play with your tits.**

Groaning, Stiles resisted the urge to touch his cock. Instead he used one hand to record a short video of himself from the chest down, his other hand to tease and rub gentle fingers across his flushed chest, pinching an altogether too sensitive nipple between thumb and forefinger at the end, drawing forth a sharp gasp. Rewatching the video and thinking of Ian- of _Daddy_ watching him touch himself, legs spread and his cock so fucking hard when he wasn’t even touching it, made embarrassment settle hot in the pit of his stomach. The feeling went straight to his dick, though. He’d figured out a long time that he had a thing for humiliation- and so had Ian. There was no way the asshole wouldn’t respond to the video with tons of teasing, mocking commentary about what a slutty, desperate little boy Stiles was. He’d only have to send it, wait maybe a minute at most, and-

Yeah. There it was.

**You’re so hard and you haven’t even been playing with your cock. Is it just from teasing those pretty tits of yours? Are you a whore for having your nipples played with, sweetheart? Anyone could just give them a pinch and they’d have you on your knees, begging for more no matter what it took to get it, hm?**

And immediately after-

**But thinking of Daddy made you so hard too, didn’t it? Were you thinking about my hands on your tits? Maybe my mouth? I’d play with them until you were pleading for more, then until you begged me to stop. I’d make it hurt, and it would only get you even harder.**

Jesus, Stiles wasn’t going to last. He needed more, now. 

**yes daddy please. need u to use ur hands and mouth on me. need u to hurt me. fuck me**

**need to cum for u**

And just to get his point across-

**daddyyyyy. need it now**

Stiles is immensely grateful when he receives a reply instantly. 

**Well, since you said please. Get your lube out, sweetheart. Don’t touch your cock, you’re just going to fuck yourself nice and slowly for Daddy. Start off with one finger.**

The moment Stiles pushes one slick finger into his ass, he wants more. Wants to feel the stretch and burn of two, three fingers forcing him open. Instead he stays still long enough to position his phone between his legs, taking an awkwardly angled photo of his hole clenching desperately around one finger. “only 1 finger??? :(“ At one point in Stiles’ life he might have had trouble typing and sending the message with one of his hands occupied, but he’s been able to expertly navigate the internet and his phone while simultaneously jerking off or fingering himself for years now. 

**Yes, just one finger. Don’t be greedy. I’ll tell you when you can add more.**

**daddyyy. not enough. im fucking myself but i dont feel full enough**

**ur fingers would b better**

**Aw, does the little slut want Daddy’s big fingers stuffing his hole? Stretching you out for my cock?**

**fuck. please daddy**

He can’t be bothered to make an effort at talking dirty, too focused on the sensation of his finger opening him up slowly, rubbing against that one spot inside that makes his cock twitch, blurt precome as he reads Ian’s messages over and over, the words making him feel dirty and overwhelmed in the best way. 

**You can’t help being so greedy, can you? Filthy whore. Add another finger and tell Daddy how it feels.**

**it feels good. love stretching my hole for u daddy, wanna be ready to take ur fat cock like a good boy. will u fuck me if im a good boy daddy?**

It takes Stiles significantly longer than usual to type his message now that he’s not only managing his phone with one hand, he also has two fingers in his ass. He gets distracted fucking himself with them every few seconds, and even when he tries to stay still and focus on typing, he can’t stop his hole from clenching down around the two digits constantly. He still wants more. He thinks he’ll always want more, his fingers or even the one dildo he owns will never be enough now that he’s fantasized so much about Ian’s dick in him. 

**If you’re a good boy, Daddy will fuck you and fill you up with come until it’s dripping out of you. I’ll wreck that pretty hole of yours, sweetheart.**

**So be a good boy now. Add another finger. Don’t worry about responding to me right now, just listen to Daddy.**

“Fuck.” Stiles barely has time to feel empty and wanting again when he slides both fingers out of his lube slick hole, before he adds a third finger, pushing them in all at once. He moves them in and out in sharp, quick thrusts, his cock twitching and leaking precum onto his stomach.

**I bet you're already desperate to come, aren't you? You've been waiting all day. Poor boy. Do you think you're desperate enough to come without a hand on your cock?**

**Fuck yourself nice and deep. Curl your fingers a bit. If it were my fingers inside you right now, you’d be writhing and begging already. Pretty pink hole all slick and gobbling Daddy’s fingers right up.**

He’s never been able to come without touching his dick before, doesn’t even think he’d have the patience to try, but Stiles thinks if anyone could make him do it, it would be Ian. Ian with his perfect body and filthy mouth, sending him message after message while he fingers himself-

**You’re such a slut. Pussy’s so hungry for Daddy’s cock, isn’t it, sweetheart? I wonder how much you could take when you’re all loose and needy like this, ready to be split open on my dick. If I’d be able to get four of my fingers inside you.**

Stiles thinks he might moan but he isn’t even sure, too out of it to think about anything but his dick, his fingers twisting and fucking into him at a new angle now, harder, everything Ian’s saying going straight to his cock and skyrocketing his arousal. It’s a good thing he’s home alone, because there’s no way he’d be able to keep quiet or even think to muffle his noises at this point. 

**You’d be stretched so wide, so full. Your hole would gape when I took my fingers out, and my cock would slide into you so easily. I wouldn’t even have to be gentle for your first time, would I?**

**Because your pussy will take whatever I decide to give it, and you’d love it, you’d moan and cry like a whore while I fucked you. Daddy’s perfect little whore.**

It’s a miracle Stiles has managed not to touch his cock yet, he’s so fucking hard and ready to come it hurts, hole milking his fingers desperately but it’s not enough, not until-

**I want you to come now, sweetheart. Keep fucking yourself, nice and hard like Daddy would. You can even touch your little prick if you need to, I bet you’ll be done the moment you’ve got a hand wrapped around your cock anyways. Little boys don’t have enough self control to last.**

His phone dropping to the bed beside him, Stiles squeezes the fingers of his free hand around the head of his cock, Ian’s last message replaying in his mind as he comes. He shoots all over his hand and stomach with a choked off gasp, fingers still thrusting in and out of his ass even when he clenches almost painfully around them. 

It takes a few minutes for Stiles to come down, panting and staring up at his bedroom ceiling until his come starts to cool on his stomach and feels disgusting enough that he works up the energy to wipe himself clean with the shirt he’d been wearing earlier. 

“Holy shit.” His heartbeat is finally slowing down but he still feels overwhelmed, giddy like he always does when Ian talks him to an orgasm. When he looks over at his phone, the flashing notification that indicates a new snapchat message makes him grin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much porn. Panty kink and some feminization in this chapter.

Stiles’ tumblr followers always ask if he has an Amazon wish list they can use to buy him gifts. It’s tempting to let strangers buy him all the sex toys he could ask for (because let’s be honest, most of his followers aren’t interested in buying him a new phone or a pair of sneakers, they want to buy dildos and see him using them.) He refuses to post a public wish list, though, since anyone who looked at it would be able to see what town he’s from. It’s not like they’d have his exact address, but it’s still too much of a risk. He likes having his privacy, likes maintaining a degree of anonymity. 

So when Ian asked about a wish list, Stiles let him know he doesn’t have one for privacy reasons and figured that would be the end of it. Instead, the older man had insisted he wanted to spoil Stiles, despite understanding his need for privacy. He'd offered to buy online gift cards for the teenager instead. 

“r u serious???” was Stiles’ initial response. Once Ian confirmed that yes, he was serious, Stiles had to ask what exactly the man wanted in return for purchasing him gift cards. 

**I don’t expect anything in return. I’d just like to spoil you.**

Stiles isn’t naive. He'd almost rolled his eyes at the message from Ian, but part of him was trying to figure out if he really meant it when he said he didn’t expect anything from Stiles. They’d known each other for awhile, so it could be that Ian had a legitimate desire to spoil him as he'd said, right?

**ur telling me if u bought me a gift card and i used it to get a new dildo and lady’s panties or something u wouldnt expect pics or videos of me using the stuff in return? or like my undying gratitude and servitude?**

**Well, I would never object to being sent photos and videos of you. But you wouldn’t owe me anything.**

**What’s this about panties, though?**

Stiles ignored the question about the panties- women’s underwear make him feel pretty, okay?

**i guess if u want u can send one of those online gift card things to my email address.**

And that’s how Stiles ended up with an Amazon gift card for $300. 

He’d panicked upon first seeing the amount Ian had sent him, sure it was either a mistake or that he really was expected to do something in return for the man. After Ian had confirmed that no, it wasn’t a mistake and no, Stiles didn’t owe him anything, he’d yelled at him because who spent that much money on someone for no good reason? Ian did, apparently. 

Stiles still thought it was ridiculous and stupid of his daddy, but that didn’t stop him from using the gift card to buy all of the random shit he’d been eyeing but couldn’t afford for months. He purchased an embarrassing amount of lube, a new dildo and a vibrator, and yes, panties. Once he’d worked up the courage to send Ian a link to a lacy purple pair he liked, the older man had shown Stiles just how much he liked the idea of him wearing lingerie and encouraged him to buy more. He also couldn’t resist buying a Captain America hoodie. Stiles wondered if this was what being rich was like, being able to buy useless toys and shit he didn’t actually need. He quickly decided that no, this probably wasn’t what being rich was like. This was what having a rich sugar daddy was like. 

 

**so r u like my sugar daddy now?**

It was the first thing Stiles said to Ian the next day after using his gift card.

**What on earth would make you think that?**

Stiles rolled his eyes at the message, he couldn't help it. 

**Ummm. U bought me a $300 gift card and I call u daddy so it kinda seems like ur my sugar daddy.**

**I didn't buy you a $300 gift card so you would call me daddy, though. You call me daddy for free so I'm not a sugar daddy.**

**I'm far too attractive to be a sugar daddy.**

Oh. _Oh._ It seemed like Ian was offended by the notion of being someone's sugar daddy. Arrogant dumbass. 

**omg shhh daddy I wasn't insulting you by calling you a sugar daddy. Nothing wrong with paying for attention and sex from someone as bangable as me. Which ur totally not doing btw. I'd get it on with u even if u were poor ;-***

**Ur obviously not poor though right? Since u spent 300 DOLLARS ON ME.**

**What on earth is ;-* supposed to mean?**

**I'm quite well off, financially speaking. $300 isn't much and you honestly deserve so much more.**

**It's a kissy face duh ;-***

**It looks ridiculous.**

**Rude :( ;’-***

 

Stiles learned about the wonders of two day shipping when his Amazon purchases arrived the next day. He came home to two packages addressed to him on the front porch and rushed them upstairs to his bedroom before his dad could start asking questions about what he'd bought. 

The first box he tore open revealed his new panties and toys. That left the hoodie he'd bought in the other box, but he opted not to open it yet because, seriously. Panties. 

Stiles had only worn panties once before, and only because Scott dared him to when they were 14. He remembered what it had felt like, though. The soft lace against his skin, tight, silky fabric around his cock. 

He'd been humiliated at first when he'd popped a boner right there in Scott's bedroom, the panties doing nothing to conceal it, but it had gotten less humiliating when Scott ended up getting hard too just from the sight of Stiles in a pair of frilly pink panties. They'd jerked each other off for the first time that day, hands clumsy and all over each other, with Scott staring down at Stiles' satin-clad dick with the cutest awed expression on his face. 

He'd never worked up the courage to buy himself a pair of panties since then, and Scott didn't mention it again after buying him the first pair from who knows where. A look at his liked posts on tumblr would reveal that he thought of it and browsed through more than a few blogs featuring men in lingerie, though. 

The panties fit snugly around his hips, hugging his ass and just barely containing his cock and balls, but Stiles liked the tight fit, imagined how he'd look hard, the head of his cock peeking out over the top of the panties or straining against the front, darkening the delicate fabric with precome. He didn't want to make a mess just yet, though. Not until his daddy saw how he looked, all delicate and pretty in his expensive new underwear.

Stiles opened snapchat and took a photo of himself right where he was standing, angling it so his body was visible from the stomach down, showing the dark treasure trail below his navel that led down to the purple panties, his cock clearly outlined in them. He added the text "Like my panties, Daddy?" and then sent the picture to one dadwolf69 before sitting at the edge of his bed and waiting for a response. He would have tried on another pair or even opened up his new toys, but he doubted it would take long for Ian to reply once he saw Stiles' photo. 

He was right.

**I love them. Show Daddy how cute your ass looks in those pretty panties, baby.**

Taking a picture of his own ass without the help of a mirror was way more challenging than it should have been, mostly because at first Stiles tried to take the photo standing up, twisting and turning to find a good angle. Then it occurred to him that it would be easier to lay on his stomach in bed and take the photo from over his shoulder. That turned out to be a lot simpler. He stayed where he was after sending the picture to Ian,

**Look so good in your panties, baby. I bet they feel nice on your cock, don't they?**

**Bet you want to keep them on while you touch yourself, rub your little boy dick through the fabric until you come.**

**Are you hard yet?**

_I am now_ Stiles thought with a groan, replying wordlessly, with just a picture of his hard cock straining against the panties. He'd rolled over onto his back, legs spread wantonly as he opened the series of messages Ian sent him next. 

**Good boy**

**Do you know what good boys get, sweetheart?**

**They get Daddy's cock.**

The picture accompanying Ian's message made Stiles’ impossibly harder, his cock drooling precum. His daddy still had his pants on, but the thick bulge of his cock was clearly outlined in them, his hand squeezed around the base. 

**Wanna be ur good boy, daddy. Wanna be so good for u when u split me open on ur dick.**

Stiles whined as he read the next few messages from the man, squirming and fucking his hips up into the air just to feel the rub of lace against his cock. 

**I know, sweetheart. You're Daddy's good little babywhore, aren't you?**

**Want me to just push aside your panties, fuck right into that slutty pussy of yours?**

**Breed your cunt and make you cream your panties just from feeling Daddy inside you, just from the way my come fills you up so well.**

**Please. Need that, daddy. Think about it all the time, feel my hole all soft and open after I finger myself for u and wish ur come was dripping out of me.**

Stiles paused for a second before typing out his next message, nervous about what Ian’s reaction would be. He trusted his daddy, though. Trusted him to accept and understand his fantasies, even if he didn’t like them. 

**Sometimes at school I think about wearing panties to class for u, with a plug holding ur come in me all day. Imagine wearing a skirt for u so u can lift it up and fuck me whenever u want, take the plug out of my wet pussy and fill me up with more come.**

**Then you'd put the plug back inside me, let me clean up ur cock with my mouth like a good little girl.**

He didn’t have time to worry what kind of reaction his messages would get before he was opening a new photo from Ian. He’d taken his cock out now, and Stiles could see the vein that ran along the underside, the tip all flushed and slick with precome. God, he needed that in him, needed to be split wide on the head of his daddy’s cock as it slid inside him. Gentle at first, then harder. Driving deep into him until his daddy’s balls were pressed snug against his ass. 

**Fuck. Look what you do to Daddy, princess. You are a good girl, wearing your pretty panties for me. Little pussy all hungry for me.**

**How about you touch yourself for Daddy, baby girl? Rub your clit through your panties until you make a mess in them.**

As much as he wanted to last longer, Ian’s messages, the panties, all had his cock- _his clit, Daddy had called it_ \- twitching, spurting come all over the front of the panties minutes after he started stroking himself through the fabric. He was still flushed and out of breath when he took a picture of the wet spot on his panties, following up with a short video of him pushing a hand inside the panties, coating two fingers in his own come and bringing them up to his mouth to suck them clean. 

Ian responded with a video of his own, cock out now and his hand sliding up and down the length almost lazily, milking himself until come spurted out and dripped down the thick head of his cock. It made Stiles dive a hand back into his panties, wiping up more come for him to lick up while he thought about what it would be like to swallow down his daddy's come instead. How it would feel to have his mouth opened up around that fat cock, to suckle at the head and lap up the last traces of Ian's come with his tongue. 

Stiles willed himself not to get hard again, taking off his panties now that he'd made a complete mess of them and taking a picture of himself naked, soft cock resting against his thigh and still wet with come. He added the text "thanks Daddy ;-*" to his picture before sending it, grinning dopily to himself. He was still smiling moments later, high on the rush of endorphins his orgasm gave him and the warm, fluttery feelings his daddy gave him, when he received a reply. 

**Any time, princess. So...your feminization kink came as a pleasant surprise.**

He rolled his eyes- of course Ian would want to talk about it. The older man was big on discussing and negotiating things, making sure they were on the same page and that Stiles was comfortable with everything they did. He couldn't really complain about it, no matter how awkward he might feel discussing some of his kinks. 

**I mean it couldnt have been that surprising when u knew I was buying panties. Srry for not warning u though.**

Despite how obviously okay Ian had been with the feminization, Stiles still breathed a sigh of relief at his next response-

**You're right, it wasn't too much of a surprise. And I'm certainly not complaining. I liked it and would be happy to help you explore it further if that's what you want.**

**Of course u would. Pervert.**

**Sooo does that mean u might want to hear about it if I end up buying a skirt with the money left on my gift card?**

A pleasantly warm feeling settled in his stomach and Stiles could feel his face heating up when Ian replied with- 

**Daddy would definitely like to hear about that, princess. I'm sure your little ass would look gorgeous in a skirt.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No porn in this chapter, just actual almost-plot progression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Text messages between Peter and Stiles are bolded the same way snapchat texts were. I gave Peter the first California phone number I could think of so if it's a real number and one of you goes calling a poor random person in Squirrel Mountain Valley, CA I take no responsibility ;-;

Over the course of the next week, Stiles and Ian started talking even more often than they had been. About things other than sex. It was weird. But it was also kind of nice. Ian sent him the occasional pointless snapchat photo- of his socks, of the asshole in front of him in line at Starbucks. In return Stiles would send him messages complaining about his classes at school, more often than not while he was in those classes, or he’d tell the older man about something especially horrible/hilarious one of his friends had done that day. It almost felt like they were getting to know each other, you know, if it wasn’t for the fact that they didn’t know each other’s last names, what the other looked or sounded like, and if Stiles wasn’t going by the semi-made up name “Kas” when he talked to Ian. He was protecting his privacy, okay? For all he knew, the guy he’d been sexting and calling Daddy for over a month could be a serial killer, a pedophile, or worse, someone he knew from Beacon Hills. He shuddered at the thought of unknowingly sending nudes to one of his dad’s deputies.

Point is, there was a lot he and Ian didn’t know about each other, and Stiles was fine with that. Liked it, even. Certainly didn’t want to see the guy’s face or learn more about his personal life, learn where he lived. And he absolutely did not feel a rush of desire and excitement the day Ian sent him a message that read “I want to see your face. You could see mine too if you’d like, of course.”

**but u see my dick like every day isnt that enough**

See? No desire or excitement there at all. 

**While your dick and the rest of your body is gorgeous, I can’t help but be curious about what you look like. I bet your face is just as pretty as the rest of you. It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with it though.**

He shouldn’t have been comfortable with it. Stiles had so far been _very_ careful hiding his identity online and when he talked to people from his blog. But this was Ian. They’d known each other long enough, right? And hey, now he could make sure he wasn’t talking to a wrinkly old grandpa with a freakishly fit body for his age. Against his better judgement, Stiles responded with “nah its cool. but i wanna see ur face too.”

**Of course, sweetheart. You don’t have to do it now. Whenever you’re ready is fine.**

Fuck that. He wasn’t waiting until he lost his courage or his brief bout of stupidity, whichever this was. He took a quick selfie right where he was at the desk in his bedroom, didn’t even stop to look at it before sending it off with the text just reading “Hi.” He was probably about to have a panic attack, fuck. This felt like way too big of a deal for what it was. 

Ian sent a picture of his own right after, and at first Stiles was grateful he wouldn’t have to wait. Then he looked at Ian’s photo. And dropped/threw his phone.

Not Ian’s photo. Peter’s photo.

Peter fucking Hale’s photo.

A fucking selfie of Peter fucking Hale, lips quirked in an almost grin, looking calm and for all the world like he hadn’t just found out he’d been sexting with a kid from his town for a month. How was he not as horrified as Stiles was? The accompanying text had only said “Well hi there, Stiles.”

Now he was really going to have a panic attack. Too many thoughts rushed through his head at once while his pulse sped up and was it hot in his room? It felt hot in his room. He was starting to sweat. It wasn’t like he’d never dealt with a panic attack before, though- it was easy to calm himself down before he started to hyperventilate, surprisingly easy considering the situation. Because, seriously. “What the fuck?” Stiles whispered to himself, then louder, “What the _fuck?_ ” He was going to murder Peter, preferably before the wolf told anyone about what had been going on between them for the past month. 

His phone was a few feet away from when he’d started flailing and frantically tossed it, and when he picked it up he found another Snapchat message from Peter. From _dadwolf69._ Jesus, he should have suspected it with all the ridiculous wolf usernames, but to be fair there were a lot of dominant guys who seemed to like comparing themselves to wolves. Dominant guys who actually were wolves, probably not so much. Stiles steeled himself for an incredibly awkward conversation, planning out Peter’s murder in the back of his mind.

**This is a surprise. I never took you to be a daddy’s boy, Stiles.**

He was typing out a response before he’d even finished reading the message.

**u dick. did u think this would b funny? im gonna light u on fire again**

**That's a very hurtful thing to say to an old friend and sexting buddy. And I really am just as surprised as you are about this. I didn't know you were the cute underaged twink I'd been speaking to until today when you sent me that last photo.**

Yeah right. Stiles scoffed to himself in disbelief.

**rlly. ur trying to tell me this is just a coincidence and not some sick joke of urs. is it an evil scheme? am i part of one of ur evil schemes?**

**How would I have known who you were until today? You told me your name was Kas. And as amusing as this situation is for me, it was never part of a cruel joke. All the incriminating photos of myself I've sent you should be proof of that.**

The guy had a point. Stiles had almost as much dirt on Peter as Peter had on him with all the messages they'd exchanged, and even violent psychopathic werewolves wouldn't create a fake tumblr and Snapchat, then go through weeks of talking and kinky sexting, all for a joke. Right? So it was a coincidence. A horrible, tragic, awkward coincidence. Because there was no way in hell he'd call Peter Hale "Daddy" or even talk to the man now that he knew it was Peter Hale. 

**ok I believe u. just know that im screenshotting all ur messages from now on and all ur old blog posts and if u try to tell anyone about this my dad will arrest u for soliciting child porn. also we're done talking 4ever bye**

**Your secret is safe with me, Stiles. Although I don't see why we need to stop talking. You're clearly attracted to me, we have the same interests. Nothing has to change.**

**Message me back when you've gotten over the shock of this situation and would like to speak again. I'll give you a few days to calm down, you have until Friday.**

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? The asshole sounded like a wannabe supervillain, all vaguely menacing and arrogant and..controlling, and hot... Nope. Sexy mystery Daddy was hot. Peter Hale wasn't hot. He wasn't allowed to be. 

 

He deleted dadwolf69 from his Snapchat friends, and blocked Peter on tumblr while he was at it too. There was no way the...thing they’ve had going could continue now that they knew they were talking to each other and not some stranger thousands of miles away, someone they weren’t supposed to hate. 

 

Two days after he’d cut Peter out of his life, Stiles admitted to himself that he’d started to miss the guy a little bit. Talking to the werewolf had become a part of his routine, okay? Now when he got home from school he didn’t rush to look at his Snapchat, didn’t have anyone to talk to or exchange nudes with late at night. He’d wake up with morning wood and take care of it in the shower, didn’t even bother to take pictures to post on tumblr. He’d gotten into the habit of showing most of the photos he took to Peter first, and of only coming once he’d received a message along the lines of “Go ahead, princess. Cum all over yourself for Daddy.” Memories of their sexting simultaneously turned him on and totally killed his boner. 

 

Friday didn’t start out much different than the last few days, but he remembered what Peter had said to him. “You have until Friday.” He had until Friday before what? Before Peter went all psychowolf again and murdered him? Shared Stiles’ porn blog with the whole pack? He chose to keep his mind on some of the more dramatic, unlikely possibilities instead of considering that the older man might really want them to keep talking the way they had been, might get ahold of Stiles’ cell phone number and call him. Somehow actually having to face Peter seemed like it would be worse than murder or the awkwardness of having his porn blog exposed. 

 

Peter didn’t call him. Peter tried to climb into his house through his open bedroom window. Luckily Stiles kept the window in his room lined with mountain ash for this exact purpose- creepy werewolves who don’t know how to just use the doorbell, goddammit. The older man recoiled after his first attempt at breaking in but didn’t leave, ignoring Stiles’ yell of “Oh my god, go away!” He stayed perched on the roof, staring through the window like a sad puppy. 

“Stiles, let me in. We need to talk.” He urged. Stiles scoffed and shook his head adamantly.

“No, we don’t! We’ve already talked enough. We have talked more than enough! Way too much talking has happened between us! Yeah, way too much. And now we should never talk again to make up for it. Like ever. In fact, you should move. Maybe to Alaska? There are wolves in Alaska, right? Wolves and creepy old men. You’ll fit in great.”

The teenager would have kept talking, but he was interrupted by a very annoyed, very loud growl and a stern, “Stiles.”

“What?” He snapped, cutting his distressed rambling short at the tone in Peter’s voice in spite of himself. If the wolf had just sounded like his usual arrogant, bossy self, Stiles would have ignored him and kept talking, but there was something else in his voice. Something disturbingly earnest and pleading.

“Shut up.” And there goes any desire to quiet down and listen to Peter. He released an indignant squawk, ready to go off on another tangent just to spite the asshole, but Peter barreled forward with whatever speech he’d apparently prepared and curiosity made the teen pay reluctant attention to what he was saying.

“I know it was a shock to discover we’d been talking to each other for the past several weeks, particularly with what we’ve shared between us. It was certainly surprising to me. However, it doesn’t ruin my attraction to you and I don’t see why it would ruin your attraction to me- I mean, you were quite clearly attracted to me before you knew who I was.” Peter smirked and it was both taunting and suggestive. Stiles wanted to throw something at him. Unfortunately, there was a window screen in the way. 

“Before I knew who you were, Peter! Knowing the guy I’m sending nudes to is a serial killing werewolf kind of killed my boner for you.”

“So you admit you had a boner for me.”

“Dude, just tell my why you’re here. What do you want?” Stiles groaned, hiding his face in his hands to avoid the knowing smirk that was still in place on Peter’s face.

“I want us to keep talking and not let our past get in the way of how well we were bonding, of course. I’ve told you before. I like you, Stiles. Knowing the pretty, dirty boy I’ve been chatting with these past weeks is you has only made me like you more. Can you honestly say you don’t like me too?”

“I hate you.” Stiles mumbled into his hands, not daring to peek out at Peter just yet.

“Fair enough. Can you honestly say you don’t want me to fuck you, though?”

There was still a window screen separating the two of them. Stiles threw one of his pillows in Peter’s direction anyways. He thought it got his point across, but Peter was still staring at him like he was waiting for an answer, so Stiles sighed and looked anywhere but at the creepy, old, unfairly attractive werewolf crouching outside his window. “I don’t want- okay, technically I do want- wait, but. Does it really matter?” He might have been whining a little. “You can’t make me answer that.”

When he risked a glance in Peter’s direction, the wolf looked like he was trying not to laugh. “That’s true. I know the answer anyways. But my point is, Stiles, that there’s nothing to stop us from continuing our...relationship. We both want to. It might even be easier now that we know each other’s true identities. For example, I can text you now instead of only contacting you via Snapchat. I am going to text you now. So make sure you respond when I do. I’m glad we had this talk.”

And then Peter was turning to leave, and Stiles couldn’t do much more than glare at him and yell at his retreating back before he climbed off the roof. “There isn’t any mountain ash by my front door, you know! You could have just gotten in that way, creeperwolf!”

It was only that night, after Peter had left, that Stiles realized he didn’t have the older man’s phone number, had never even talked to him on the phone despite all the time he spent calling and texting the rest of the pack when they had supernatural drama to deal with. To be fair, Peter wasn’t always the most involved in pack business. He was pretty much the last person Stiles would contact in an emergency or if he needed help. He was definitely the last person Stiles would contact just for a chat. He told himself that was the only reason he wasn’t blocking Peter’s number before the werewolf got a chance to contact him, obviously he couldn’t block a phone number he didn’t know yet. He’d totally do it if he did have the number. Really. 

 

Stiles spent the next day dreading a phone call or text from Peter, but all his stress and anticipation (not hope or impatience, nope. He doesn’t want to talk to Peter, what?) turned out to be for nothing. He didn’t receive any messages or calls from an unknown number. Before he went to bed that night, he spent a few hours on tumblr, resolutely not checking his phone every few minutes like he was tempted to.

 

He was getting dressed for school the following morning when his phone vibrated, and Stiles almost didn’t realize who the unfamiliar number texting him was for half a second before he opened the text.

**6:50 am. 760-417-4095: Hello, Stiles.**

_Dammit._ He didn’t have time to deal with Peter. Didn’t want to deal with Peter. He texted him back anyways.

**6:51 am. Stiles: what do u want**

Stiles shoved his phone into his pocket, shouldered his backpack and went downstairs. He headed out to his jeep as soon as his sneakers were on, determinedly not checking his phone again.

Not until he pulled into the school parking lot, at least. Then he couldn’t help but open the newest texts Peter had sent him.

**6:53 am. 760-417-4095: Is that any way to talk to an old friend? I just wanted to say hi.**

**6:53 am. 760-417-4095: And since you appear to have deleted me from snapchat, I thought I’d text you to wish you a good day at school instead.**

The third text read “Have a good day at school, sweetheart.” and contained a picture of Peter, clearly still in bed, annoyingly smug grin on his face and nothing covering his chest or his hard cock lying against his stomach. Stiles yelped and closed the message immediately, looking around like he wasn’t alone in his car with no one to catch him staring at a _sext from Peter Hale._

He was alone, though, obviously. 

Once he’d made sure of that he opened Peter’s texts again. The picture made Stiles’ cock twitch faintly in interest, which wasn’t okay. He was at _school._

“Traitor.” He muttered to his own cock, adding Peter’s number to his contacts- just in case, just so he’d know who it was when the wolf inevitably contacted him again- and then putting his phone away without responding to the totally unfair, unwarranted dick pic he’d received. He stumbled out of his jeep and pushed thoughts of Peter to the back of his mind as he walked into school, the man’s phone number now listed in his contacts under the name “Asshole.”

 

Stiles was the one who initiated their next conversation. He texted Peter later that day, after he was out of school and had already completed all his homework, nothing else to distract him from thoughts of one certain creeperwolf. 

**6:30 pm. Stiles: u suck**

**6:31 pm. Stiles: also wtf was up with ur fake name who uses a fake name on the internet??**

**6:31 pm. Stiles: don’t answer that second question**

**6:33 pm. Asshole: Technically it’s not a fake name, it’s just my middle name and I used it for the same reason you didn’t share your real name. For privacy. Do you really think I would give the mysterious underaged boy I was sexting my real name?**

_Fair enough,_ Stiles thought, quick to focus on the more important part of Peter’s text and reply to that.

**6:35 pm. Stiles: hahaha ur middle name is Ian**

**6:36 pm. Asshole: And your full first name is Kasimierz. You have no place to judge, sweetheart.**

**6:36 pm. Stiles: wtf??? how do u know my first name?**

**6:40 pm. Asshole: I know a lot of things about you, Stiles. Honestly I feel a bit stupid for not realizing what “Kas” was short for sooner, considering how long I’ve known your full name.**

**6:41 pm. Stiles: UR SO CREEPY OH MY GOD**


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phone sex. That's it, that's the whole chapter.

Somehow Stiles ended up falling back into a routine of sorts with Peter after that. It wasn’t the same as before, but it was still surprisingly...nice? He never would have expected to enjoy talking to Peter of all people, the dude was a complete asshole. But to be fair, so was Stiles, so that was just another thing they had in common. 

It only took a week for them to start talking about sex again. Peter hadn’t sent him any R rated texts or photos since the first day they’d begun texting, and part of Stiles was grateful for that. He wasn’t sure he was ready for any sexting that soon after they’d started talking as Stiles and Peter instead of as Kas and Ian. Another part of him missed the sexting because, well. Peter was hot, and had already proven to be skilled in the arts of sexting and dirty talk. And Stiles was a hormonal teenager who missed getting off with his daddy.

That’s why, after exactly one week of texting Peter, Stiles interrupted their conversation about Star Wars by sending a picture of his boxer briefs to the man, his hard cock tenting the front of them. “I’m horny” was the only explanation he sent with the photo. Peter replied quickly as usual- Stiles had become convinced that posting on tumblr and messaging teenage boys were the only things Peter ever did, he never seemed too busy to talk to Stiles.

**8:26 pm. Asshole: Not surprising, considering you’re an insatiable little boy who hasn’t played with his Daddy for quite some time now.**

The message wasn’t even particularly dirty or sexy. It still made Stiles’ dick twitch.

**8:27 pm. Stiles: help :|**

**8:28 pm. Asshole: You’re going to have to be more specific than that if you want my help. Tell Daddy what you want, sweetheart. And use your manners this time.**

**8:28 pm. Stiles: uggghhhhh ur the worst**

**8:30 pm. Stiles: want u to make me come. please daddy?**

**8:30 pm. Stiles: also I wanna see ur cock. I miss it**

**8:31 pm. Asshole: You’re such a needy little cockslut, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.**

**8:40 pm. Asshole: I’d like to try something new, though. Is it okay if I call you?**

**8:42 pm. Stiles: wait u mean for like. phone sex?**

**8:43 pm. Asshole: That’s exactly what I meant. I want to hear the noises you make when you finger yourself open and stroke your pretty cock for me. I want to hear you beg.**

Stiles' breath caught in his throat and he hastily typed out a reply. He wasn't sure if he'd actually be good at phone sex, but there was no way he was about to turn down Peter's offer. He could only imagine what the werewolf's voice would sound like giving him orders, whispering filth in Stiles' ear, jerking himself off to the sound of _Stiles_ getting off. 

**8:44 pm. Stiles: call me**

It seemed like only seconds later when his phone started ringing. Stiles figured that if he was doing this- having phone sex with murderous zombie wolf Peter Hale- that he might as well go all in, put aside any formalities or awkwardness and just say whatever the fuck he wanted. So his first words upon answering his phone were “Hey, Daddy.” 

He was surprised by how low and breathy his voice already sounded when he hadn’t even touched himself yet, but Peter seemed to like it. He heard a surprised grunt, so deep it could have been a growl, and Peter’s voice soft and warm but obviously turned on when he spoke. “Hello, sweetheart. You’re such a good boy, letting Daddy call you.” 

Stiles felt himself blush at the praise. He rolled over in bed so his cock was pressed between his body and the mattress, allowing him to rut lazily against the mattress, the friction making his breath catch even with his boxers in the way. “Good boys get Daddy’s cock.” He pointed out helpfully, mirroring Peter’s exact words from many of their previous conversations. 

There was a chuckle from Peter’s end of the line. “Yes, they do. Good boys also don’t touch themselves without permission though. It sounds an awful lot like you’ve already started touching yourself without my permission, Stiles.” 

Fuck. He’d started breathing a bit faster just from grinding against his sheets, and Peter’s voice, hearing his daddy say his name, only brought forth more noises. A whimper escaped him before he cut it short, and he whined, “I’m not touching myself, technically.” 

“Oh? Then what are you doing that’s got you so excited, princess?” 

“Um.” There was a moment of silence and Stiles froze, finally stopped rubbing his cock against the mattress as he tried to think of an answer less embarassing than “humping my bed.” Peter didn’t give him time to come up with a better response, though. 

“Stiles. Tell Daddy what you’re doing.” 

Groaning, he hid his face against his blankets even though Peter couldn’t see him and mumbled, “I was kind of, uh...rubbingagainstmymattress?” His answer was so rushed he’d be surprised if Peter could understand it, especially when he hurried to explain without even stopping for a breath. “I didn’t mean to- I mean, I don’t usually but I’m hard and laying on my stomach and your voice, _Daddy-_ ” 

He was interrupted by an all too delighted sounding laugh, and Peter’s stupidly smug, taunting voice. “Were you humping your pillow like a dirty little boy? Pressing your dick up against whatever felt good, just couldn’t stop yourself, could you? I bet you were so worked up you couldn’t even wait for Daddy to help you take care of it like a big boy. Just heard my voice and felt your hard cock against your nice, soft bed and started rutting against it. Did you even stop to take your boxers off first, or were you too desperate for that?” 

This time when Stiles groaned it was for an altogether different reason, the laughter and condescension in Peter’s voice making his cock throb and leak precome, wetting the front of his boxers. “No, I- I’m still wearing them.” He admitted, not recognizing the sound of his own voice. He sounded young, desperate, all too submissive and eager to please. 

His daddy didn’t laugh again, just hummed thoughtfully, but Stiles knew he was smirking. “Take them off now.” He ordered, tone dripping with condescension again when he added, “Do you think you can do that for Daddy?” Like Stiles really was too little, too needy or dependent on his daddy to handle something as simple as taking his underwear off by himself. It made his face burn, made him feel hot and sensitive all over. 

“Yes.” He choked out, using one hand to yank down his boxers so he could keep the phone pressed to his ear. “They’re off, Daddy.” 

“Good boy! I knew you could do it. I bet it feels so much better to press your little boy parts against the sheets without anything in the way, doesn’t it?” His voice lowered, took on a searching, prodding tone. “Tell me how it feels, sweetheart.” 

“It feels nice.” He admitted, thrusting lazily again, the slow roll of his hips making him stutter when he tried to respond. “It- ah, makes my boy parts all achy like I’m about to come, makes me wanna keep going until I do.” 

“Dirty boy.” Peter chided, still sounding more amused and turned on than scolding. “You know you don’t get to come without Daddy’s permission, either. I’m not going to let you come like this. Wouldn’t you rather wait until you’re fucking your pussy to come? Until you have something to clench down on, something hot and hard pressing up against your insides while you make a mess of yourself with your little prick?” 

Stiles pressed his hips down harder, desperately seeking more friction before he rolled onto his back in an attempt to stop before he actually came. “Yes.” He breathed, sure his cheeks and the tips of his ears were red with embarrassment at how worked up he was, how easily he went along with whatever his daddy said. 

“Take out your lube and one of your toys, baby. We’re going to fill that greedy hole of yours right up.” 

Stiles groaned, scrambling to get one of his newest toys, a bright pink vibrator that pressed right against his prostate when it was inside him, along with his bottle of lube. He dropped his phone onto the bed in the process, and when he picked it back up he could hear the sounds of Peter breathing out little sounds of pleasure, slick noises as he stroked his cock. As much as he hated to interrupt, he thought listening to Peter jerk off would be even better if he could touch himself too. “I got them out. Can I finger myself now?” 

“Go ahead, princess. Get your little pussy nice and wet for Daddy and then fuck yourself open.” 

“Thank you, Daddy.” Stiles breathed the words automatically while he squirted lube onto his hand and rubbed it between his fingers, waiting until it warmed before he reached down to tease a slick finger around his rim. His hole relaxed under the touch, the tip of his finger sliding in with practised ease. Once he’d pressed his index finger in to the knuckle, hole clenching desperately around it, Stiles let out the breath he’d been holding, whined, “Daddy. Need you.” 

“I’m right here. Daddy’s got you.” Peter murmured over the phone, sounding just as composed as he had at the beginning of their conversation, and how did he even do that? No matter how leisurely he was doing it, he was still jerking off while he listened to Stiles finger himself. He had no right to sound so calm and in control. Then again, his tone when he casually ordered Stiles to “add another finger, baby, fuck yourself open for Daddy” made the teenager’s toes curl, his cock twitch against his stomach. It made him feel helpless but protected, like his Daddy would take care of everything while he fell apart at the feeling of a second finger pressing inside him. 

Stiles had three fingers buried in his ass in no time, drawing forth punched out gasps and moans every time he pulled them out until just the tips were stretching him open, tugging at his rim, then thrusting them back inside. Peter goaded him on the whole time, murmuring filth and praise, encouraging him to go harder, calling him a good little babyslut, Daddy’s perfect fucktoy. It was only when Stiles got even more vocal, groaning out, “Daddy, need to come, I’m gonna-” that he was forced to stop, Peter’s firm, “Stiles. Listen to me, now.” making him still the thrusting of his fingers with a whine. 

“It’s time to play with your toy now. Which one did you pick?” 

It took Stiles a minute to answer the question, still whining his disappointment at being interrupted from fingering himself, hole clenching rhythmically around his fingers, milking the digits for every bit of sensation he could get from them. “Ah- _Daddy_ , um. The vibrator.” He finally managed, his hole feeling empty and pliant when he removed his fingers to pick the toy up. 

Peter made a considering noise, then, “Put it in. Not too hard, sweetheart, be gentle. Turn it to the lowest setting once it’s in.” 

After slicking up the toy with more lube, Stiles did as he was told, slowly pushing it inside himself, his hole mouthing greedily at the thickest part of it, the angled head that nudged against his prostate from the moment it was inside him. He made a high-pitched, frantic sound when he turned it on, the vibrator buzzing lowly in a way that made every part of his body tense, then jerk when his hole tightened around the vibrator, almost pulling it further in. 

On the other end of the line he could hear his daddy’s pleased laughter. “Good boy, Stiles. You’re such a good boy for Daddy. Does it feel nice? Your little toy so deep inside you, filling you up and vibrating against that little spot that makes your cock wet, makes your pussy ache?” 

“Yes.” Stiles moaned, holding the vibrator still and just rolling his hips, grinding down on it as the vibrations rippled through him. “So full, Daddy...’s big, my pussy feels all stuffed full and- and _fuck, Daddy so good._ ” He babbled, not entirely coherent but not caring. Peter didn’t seem to care either, if the quiet grunts and sounds of pleasure he made were any indication. 

“You love being full, don’t you? I can’t wait to sit you down on my cock, bounce you on my lap until you’re crying with how good it feels, how full you are. Nothing else will satisfy your little cunt the same way after I fuck you. All you’ll ever want is Daddy’s cock.” 

Peter’s words made Stiles let out a noise akin to a sob, his cock flushed red and leaking steadily now as the toy vibrated inside him, never letting up. “Already want that. Need it, everything else I fuck myself with just makes me think of your big cock splitting me open, makes me need it more.” 

The sound of Peter groaning was nearly enough to make Stiles come, his daddy finally sounding a little out of breath when he ordered, “Turn up the vibrator. I want you to fuck yourself with it until you come without a hand on your dick.” 

Stiles was quick, eager to turn the vibrator to its higher setting, keening when it started buzz faster, his grip loosening and going shaky on the handle. “Daddy, Daddy please.” He begged, so close to tipping over that edge but not sure he could do it without touching his cock. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Go on, come for Daddy.” Stiles could have sworn Peter was close to wolfing out when he gave the order, his voice such a low growl, raspy in a way that barely sounded human, and somehow that was what set him off. His moan bordered on a wail when he came, cock jerking and shooting all over his stomach while his hole clamped down around the vibrator. His cock was still twitching weakly, leaving a sticky mess all over his skin when he heard Peter groan, breath catching as he said “Good boy, Stiles, good fucking boy,” and Jesus the sound of his daddy coming was enough to prolong his orgasm, make him mewl in pleasure/pain as a few final spurts of come shot out of him and his rim tightened automatically around the end of the vibrator still buzzing away inside him. 

He took the toy out once he could relax enough, turning it off and letting it drop onto the bed while he caught his breath. Peter recovered way faster than he did, clearing his throat a minute later and saying calmly, conversationally, “That was very entertaining. Thank you for doing that for me, Stiles. You really are such an obedient little boy.” 

“Um. Thanks?” Stiles laughed, not feeling as weird about the situation as he would have expected to, but part of that was probably the whole post orgasm haze thing. “Yeah, that was...that was good. Could we maybe do it again sometime? Or even, like, not over the phone. In person.” He couldn’t believe he’d said that. It had to be the post orgasm haze, yeah. Of course. 

“If that’s what you want, yes. We can do whatever you’re comfortable with.” He swore he could _hear_ Peter’s grin, but it wasn’t quite as annoying as usual, it actually made him smile in response. 

Stiles woke up the next morning with his face smashed against his phone, his cheek red where it had been pressed against the screen all night. He’d stayed on the phone with Peter while he cleaned up and redressed the evening before, then somehow they’d ended up continuing to talk for the rest of the night until Stiles had fallen asleep mid-conversation. He had no idea when Peter had hung up on him, but it had hopefully (probably) been immediately after Stiles had passed out, before he could make any embarrassing noises in his sleep. Because if the werewolf had overheard any strange sounds or heard him talking in his sleep, Stiles doubted he’d ever hear the end of it. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Peter finally spend time together in person. This chapter wasn't supposed to have any porn in it but porn just happens sometimes yanno

Stiles couldn’t get over his phone call with Peter. He’d gotten out of bed the next morning and had been going about his day as usual, if a little more cheerfully than normal, but it was hard not to grin stupidly every time he thought of the wolf. He was pretty sure he did grin pretty dopily a few times when he checked his phone between classes and found new texts from Peter. 

Scott had even noticed his change in attitude, shooting him curious looks a few times before finally asking who he kept texting. It was at that point that Stiles had decided he needed to tone it down. He wasn’t some ridiculous lovestruck teenager like so many of his classmates always seemed to be, nope. He was just giddy from having awesome phone sex the night before, and probably a little delirious from lack of sleep after staying up talking to Peter and okay, maybe he had a bit of a crush on the older man. Whatever. It wasn’t a big deal. Feelings were stupid. 

At least he wasn’t the only one with a crush. He’d suddenly become more aware of how often his conversations with Peter were initiated by Peter himself, the werewolf usually sending him texts morning, afternoon, and night. Stiles would have made fun of him for it if it wouldn’t have meant acknowledging his own feelings. So he didn’t point out the werewolf’s obvious interest in him, just texting him back as often as possible and glaring at Lydia during lunch that day when she teased him for being so upbeat, asking if he’d finally gotten laid. He’d noticed the thoughtful expression on Scott’s face when Lydia had made that particular comment and reminded himself that he really did need to tone down the whole lovestruck teenager act. 

 

Nothing in their ongoing conversation that day prepared Stiles for the sight that greeted him when he got home from school. He dropped his backpack on the floor upon entering his bedroom, turned to sit down at his desk, and shrieked when he realized someone else was already sitting there. It was a very manly shriek, obviously. 

“What are you doing?!” He demanded, hands waving through the air in his panic and surprise as he gaped at Peter, Peter who was _in his bedroom_ , lounging comfortably at his desk like he belonged there. 

“Waiting for you.” Peter rolled his eyes, the _obviously_ implied in the tone of his voice as if he were thinking “what else would I be doing on a Friday afternoon?” Just as snarkily, he added, “I was on your computer for awhile before you got here. I finally got myself unblocked from your tumblr account so we can view each other’s blogs again.”

“You know my dad is the Sheriff, right?” Stiles couldn’t think of anything else to say. “You broke into the Sheriff’s teenage son’s bedroom.”

“I also solicited dozens of revealing photos from the Sheriff’s teenage son, and sent him many revealing photos of my own in return.” He pointed out, sounding all too smug about that fact. 

Stiles groaned and crossed the room, sitting at the edge of his bed since the only other seat in his room was currently occupied. “Is that supposed to make the breaking and entering thing better? Because it really only makes it worse. So much worse.”

Peter just laughed, asked, “How was school?”

This time it was Stiles who rolled his eyes. He fell back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling while he answered. “It was school, how do you think it was? Scott’s finally started to notice that I’m on my phone all the time, texting some mystery person who isn’t him. I wonder what he’d do if he found out it was you.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t kill me since he’s so staunchly opposed to murder.” Peter replied thoughtfully. “Maybe he’d get Derek to kill me again.”

“Oh my god, don’t even joke about that!” was Stiles’ immediate response, and he even sat back up so he could scowl at the werewolf. 

Instead of looking properly chastised, Peter just looked pleased with himself. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on getting killed any time soon. I know how much you’d miss me.”

“...You never told me why you’re here.” He muttered, deciding to change the subject before he started blushing or getting all touchy feely with the smug, obnoxious wolf.

"I wanted to see you."

Apparently Peter was the one who was going to get all touchy feely. Stiles didn't think that would be so bad. 

"Aw, who misses who now? You _like_ me!" He teased, grinning triumphantly. 

Peter didn't outright disagree, which Stiles considered a win. 

 

Stiles spent the following two hours trying to focus on his homework while Peter “helped him” by describing in vivid detail all the fun they could have as soon as he was done working. 

Once he'd finally finished all of his work, he slammed his Economics textbook shut with a resounding thud, stood up and walked the few feet to where Peter was sitting at his desk, and proceeded to make himself comfortable on the man's lap. Peter’s arms wrapped around him from behind, hands settling low on his stomach and pulling him close until his back was pressed against the werewolf’s chest and Stiles could turn his head the slightest bit and have Peter’s face centimeters away from him. Which is what he did at first, but meeting Peter’s gaze made him feel awkward and overwhelmed, and he ducked his head until his face was safely hidden in the crook of Peter’s neck. He felt more than heard the laugh that came in response to his actions, chest rumbling when he chuckled.

“No need to get shy all of a sudden, princess. If you’re going to sit on Daddy’s lap I want to see you.”

He huffed noncommittally in response, nuzzling the side of the wolf’s throat until one of the hands on his waist moved to his face, gently guiding him until he was looking at Peter again. Peter who was looking at him with a surprisingly gentle expression, a smile still curving up the corners of his lips as he moved even closer until their mouths pressed together in a brief kiss. Way too brief for Stiles’ liking. After staring open-mouthed at his daddy for a moment, unsure how to respond, he initiated their second kiss, ignoring the way he had to crane his neck at an awkward angle and focusing on the pleased sound Peter made, on the tongue sliding over his lips seeking entrance. 

They kissed until Stiles’ neck started to get sore from the position he was in. At that point he reluctantly backed off, licking his lips and grinning at the way Peter’s eyes followed the action intently. “I like kissing you.” He decided aloud, leaning back against Peter and starting up the computer on his desk in front of them. “We should do it again sometime.”

Peter hummed in response, his lips brushing over the side of his neck. Stiles tried not to shudder at the feeling of stubble scraping over his skin, hot breath against him when Peter spoke right into his ear. “We could do it again now.”

Mimicking Peter’s hum of contemplation, Stiles squirmed out of the man’s grasp and leaned forward to stare at his computer screen as he opened up the Amazon website, where his account still held $120 from the gift card he’d gotten. “Nah. You just teased me for almost two hours, so I think I want to get back at you. We’re just gonna sit here and you can help me shop. I never got around to buying that skirt I wanted, you know.”

He tried not to laugh at Peter’s annoyed growl. His daddy was way too easy to rile up, apparently. Gesturing to the plaid mini skirt pictured on his computer screen, Stiles asked in the most innocent tone he could muster, “Do you think I should get it in red or blue, Daddy?”

 

Stiles ended up buying both the red and the blue skirt, along with two new pairs of panties to match the skirts. Peter had been very persuasive, not that he’d needed much convincing, and he’d even gotten two day shipping again because he wasn’t about to wait for his new skirts after hearing his daddy growl into his ear about how pretty he’d look in one of his little girl skirts, bent over to show off his pussy and begging to be fucked. He’d been hard by that point, cock straining uncomfortably against his jeans when he squirmed back on Peter’s lap only to discover he’d started to get hard too. 

As soon as his purchases had been made, he scrambled to unbutton his pants, tugging them down with his boxers just enough to free his cock and feel his daddy’s bulge against his bare ass, now with only one layer of fabric between them since Peter’s pants were still on. Which wasn’t okay at all, Stiles decided. He needed to fix that. And he would, but first he needed some relief. He rubbed his thumb over the slick head of his own cock, breath hitching as he wrapped a hand around himself. Before he could start to stroke himself, his hand was being pulled away and he groaned his displeasure, head falling back onto Peter’s shoulder. 

“Daddy, no. Let me touch.” He whined, pressing a kiss to Peter’s jaw and grinding against him.

Peter turned so their lips met, kissed him hard and possessive in a way that left Stiles panting. “Shh. You don’t need to touch yourself. Daddy’s going to take care of you.” He soothed, lips brushing against Stiles’ when he spoke. Then they were kissing again, and Stiles was too caught up in it to pay much attention to the way Peter moved him around a bit, at least until he was reseated on his lap and instead of rough fabric against his skin he felt the hard, hot length of Peter's cock slotted between his ass cheeks. 

Just the thought of what they were doing was enough to make Stiles moan, hips jerking back experimentally to feel his daddy’s cock rub against him, the thick head nudging the back of Stiles’ balls and making his own dick throb. He clutched at Peter’s arm where it was wrapped around his waist, holding him steady, heard the wolf’s sharp intake of breath when he moved just right.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart? You like grinding your little ass all over Daddy’s cock?”

Stiles could only nod in response, face burning when he heard the needy whine that left his own lips. He was quick to develop a rhythm as he moved his hips against Peter’s, his hole clenching every time the fat head of his daddy’s cock nudged against it. Peter wouldn’t stop talking, his words breathed right into Stiles’ ear sending a dirty thrill through him that had his cock leaking a steady stream of precome. 

“That’s it, good boy. Just like that. I can feel your pussy trying to open up for me, trying to get me inside. I bet you’d like it if I just shoved my dick in there right now, fed your hungry little cunt with my come, wouldn’t you?” Peter’s grip on him tightened while he spoke, slowing his movements and maneuvering him just so until the tip of his cock pressed over his hole with every thrust. And god, Stiles knew his daddy couldn’t actually fuck him right then, his hole dry but for the sticky precome Peter’s cock left all over him, the head alone too big to fit inside him without any prep, but just the thought was enough to drive him crazy.

“Fuck. Fuck me, Daddy please.” Stiles groaned, moving in tandem with Peter now and looking down when the hand on his stomach went lower, lower until it was wrapped around his cock. He was pretty sure his brain short-circuited at the sight of Peter’s hand on his cock, the feeling of it stroking slow and tight and perfect, his hips stuttering and fucking up into the touch automatically. 

Stiles whimpered, the sound embarrassingly high pitched and broken, felt Peter’s lips against the back of his neck as he chuckled and teased, “Look at you. Squirming on Daddy’s lap, fucking your cute little boy cock into my hand like a desperate whore. You’re going to make me come if you keep moving like that, keep teasing Daddy with your pretty noises, grinding on me like a bitch in heat.”

He couldn’t tear his gaze away from his lap, where Peter’s hand tugged on his cock, and just out of sight he knew his daddy’s cock was slotted up against his pussy, could feel the friction and heat of it on his skin, on his desperately clenching hole. 

“Come on, princess. Come for Daddy.” Peter didn’t sound nearly as wrecked as Stiles himself did, but his voice had dropped lower than usual, sounding raspy and just shy of breathless, and he rubbed his thumb over the head of Stiles’ dick, scraped a blunt fingernail gently over his slit and that was it. Stiles was coming with a wail, Peter holding him still and rutting against him, his cock bumping Stiles’ balls on every thrust and prolonging his orgasm. “Daddy- ah, please Daddy. Fuck, please-” He wasn’t even sure what he was asking for as he was stroked through his orgasm by a sure hand, until his oversensitive cock couldn’t stand the contact anymore and he had to bat Peter’s hand away. It was covered in his come, and Stiles found himself bringing that hand to his lips, sucking Peter’s fingers into his mouth to lick them clean. 

His actions earned him a groan and a muttered curse from his daddy, so he kept suckling and running his tongue over Peter’s fingers, lapping up his own come while Peter kept thrusting his hips beneath Stiles until he came with a grunt. It was too soon for Stiles to get hard again, but he still felt his cock twitch, moaned brokenly around the two digits in his mouth while Peter’s load spilled all over his ass, dripped hot and wet over his hole. Peter slid his fingers out of Stiles’ mouth, and he whined at the loss until the werewolf was kissing him, tongue fucking into his mouth while he came down from his orgasm. They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Stiles had caught his breath and Peter’s come was cooling on his ass and the backs of his thighs. 

“Thanks for playing with me, Daddy.” 

Stiles grinned at Peter’s quick response of “It was my pleasure.” He got up from the smirking wolf’s lap, picking up an old towel from the floor and using it to clean himself off, trying to ignore the way he could feel Peter watching his every move. 

“My dad’s gonna be home soon.” He pointed out, pulling his boxers back on and checking the time on his phone before adding, “Really soon. So uh, you might want to get out of here if you don’t want to get caught making a booty call to a teenager and get shot or arrested. Or both.”

Peter snorted, and then he was turning Stiles around so they were facing each other, kissing him again but slower and gentler this time. It still left Stiles a little breathless. “Despite the fact that I just came all over you and am leaving right after, this wasn’t a...booty call.” He made his distaste of the phrase clear in his tone, eyebrow arched as if to say “Your words, not mine.” Stiles tried not to laugh at hearing him say it. “I was really only here because I wanted to spend time with you. The sex was just a bonus.” He pressed a chaste kiss to Stiles’ lips before the teenager could respond, and it was only as he was walking out the door that Stiles managed to say, “Well that’s good to know,” while struggling to ignore the warm, fluttering feeling in his stomach.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More panty kink and feminization in this chapter. Mostly porn with a little bit of fluff at the beginning. (also I was literally too lazy to even read over this chapter before posting it so I apologize for any errors or shitty writing or w/e)

The next time Peter showed up at Stiles’ house, it was only after being invited. He even rang the doorbell like a normal person. It was only a day after his last visit, but he’d already been commenting that he’d like to see Stiles again, mentioning it over and over again through text that morning until Stiles had caved and sent him a text that said, “Fine u clingy weirdo come over today at 3. ur watching the lord of the rings movies with me though. all of them.” And, well. Stiles wanted to see his daddy just as much as his daddy wanted to see him, but he’d at least been trying to play it cool. Peter was doing no such thing.

They really had spent the day watching every _Lord of the Rings_ movie, inching increasingly closer to each other on the couch in Stiles’ living room as the hours went by and yelling at each other and at the characters onscreen during intense scenes. By the end of the third film, Stiles was sitting on Peter’s lap again, but the situation was far less sexual this time. It was almost domestic, Peter surprisingly sweet and cuddly as he held Stiles close and asked questions about the movies since it was his first time watching them. He even went along with it when Stiles insisted they take a selfie together, one that only showed the lengths of their bodies pressed close together with their faces out of the frame so he could post it on tumblr. Which he did immediately, captioning it “Sitting on Daddy’s lap ;-*” and tagging Peter’s newly unblocked blog in the photo. He was spending time with a hot older guy, okay. He deserved to show it off.

 

Peter had left on Saturday after their movie marathon ended and it was reaching the time where Stiles’ dad would be home soon. Stiles had practically swooned when the wolf gave him a goodbye kiss that lasted a solid five minutes and almost devolved into making out and rutting against each other on the couch before Peter ended it, smiling and thanking Stiles for having him over like he hadn’t just made him hard in his pants. They’d been in touch constantly since then, but still hadn’t seen each other again by Wednesday. The skirts he’d ordered had arrived on Monday, but Stiles had lacrosse practice that day, and on Tuesday Scott had wanted to hang out for the first time in what felt like forever. Stiles wasn’t about to turn his best friend down. By Wednesday he was dying to see Peter, to try on his new skirts and panties for the first time with his daddy there to appreciate them. So he wasn’t surprised or disappointed when he got home from school that day and found Peter already waiting in his bedroom. 

“Hi, princess.” Peter grinned at Stiles from his place on the teen’s bed, and Stiles was already moving forward, the last few days of anticipation motivating him to straddle the werewolf sitting on his bed, his knees resting on either side of Peter’s thighs. He kissed him deep and searching, feeling Peter’s arms wrapping automatically around his waist to hold him close. After a minute he broke the kiss but didn’t pull away, grinning and leaning his forehead against Peter’s, their lips still almost touching.

“Hey.” Stiles greeted, settling in on his daddy’s lap and making a show of squirming to get comfortable just so he could watch Peter’s eyes darken at the way Stiles was grinding his ass shamelessly against him. 

“How was your day?” Peter slid his hands down Stiles’ back until he was palming the teenager’s ass, simultaneously groping him and pulling him even closer until their groins were flush together, making Stiles’ breath hitch at the friction against his cock.

“Missed you.” He admitted, and Peter had sounded so relaxed when he’d spoken, like they weren’t basically dry humping at this point, but Stiles had to struggle to keep his voice even, his cock already growing hard.

Peter was grinning when he kissed Stiles again, dragging his teeth over Stiles’ bottom lip then soothing the skin with his tongue. “I missed you too, princess.” With the fakest innocent tone to his voice, he added, “How about you let Daddy help you with your homework again?”

Stiles was shaking his head frantically before Peter could even finish his sentence. “Nope. No way.” Voice softening, he bit his lip and looked down, only half faking his sudden shyness when he said, “I wanted to show you my new skirts today, Daddy.”

“You did?” Peter’s hand was on his chin, forcing Stiles to look at him, and he nodded, lips parting when the man’s thumb slid over his lip. He tentatively flicked his tongue out over the digit, gaining confidence and wrapping his lips around the tip of Peter’s thumb when the werewolf growled softly, gaze intent on Stiles’ mouth. “You’ve been waiting so patiently to show off your pretty clothes for Daddy, haven’t you?” He questioned, fucking his thumb shallowly in and out of Stiles’ mouth a few times. “So eager for me to see you in your skirts, in your slutty little panties.”

Stiles was quick to agree, whining around Peter’s thumb before letting it slip out of his mouth, his face flushing at the way Peter rubbed the wet fingertip over his mouth and chin. “Can I try them on for you now? Please?”

Smiling indulgently, Peter nodded and leaned back on the bed to put some distance between them so Stiles could scramble off of him. “Go ahead, baby. Show Daddy what a pretty girl you are in your new clothes.”

Stiles clambered off the bed and to his feet, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside while he went over to his closet to retrieve the box his clothes had arrived in. He kept his pants on for the time being, bringing the box to his bed and taking out the lacy red thong and matching red skirt inside. Just holding them up for Peter to look at made his face flush, arousal pooling hot in his stomach.

“Do you like them, Daddy?” He toyed with the tiny scrap of lace that made up the thong, fidgeting nervously while he waited for instructions or any kind of response from Peter.

“Put them on.” Peter’s voice had that low tone that was almost a growl, his eyes never straying from the panties and skirt clutched in Stiles’ hands. It made Stiles scramble to obey, almost tripping over his pants and boxers when he stepped out of them. He was slower to put on the panties, watching the expression on Peter’s face as he slid them up over his legs, the lace stretching taut around his hips and the bulge of his cock and balls. 

“Turn around, sweetheart.” The order was firm despite the endearment, and Stiles obeyed right away even though he hadn’t put his skirt on yet. He spun around until his back was to Peter, shifted from foot to foot and resisted the urge to peer over his shoulder so he could see his daddy’s reaction to his more or less bare ass, a thin strip of lace resting between his cheeks but doing nothing to actually cover him. Peter’s hand came to rest on his ass, the sudden touch almost enough to make Stiles jump and drawing a startled gasp from him that trailed off into a whimper when broad fingers slid lower, found his hole and rubbed over the clenching muscle through his panties.

“Look so pretty like this, princess.” Peter cooed, pressing barely there pressure against his hole. “Slutty pussy barely hidden by your panties, and I bet your little clit is hard already, isn’t it? I bet you’re already making a mess, getting your new panties all wet.” His hand dipped lower, further between Stiles’ legs to cup his balls, fingers tickling over the base of his hard cock, the lace of the panties scratching delicately against his skin. “Put your skirt on now.” Just like that Peter wasn’t touching him anymore, and Stiles couldn’t help the dismayed groan that escaped him, but he bent over to step into the skirt, pulling it up into place over his panties. 

He spun back around then, unable to keep standing there without being able to see his daddy’s reaction. The movement caused the plaid mini skirt to swish around his legs, and Stiles could feel every brush of the fabric against his skin, could see his dick tenting the front of the skirt when he looked down. He felt hot and achy, sensitive on every part of his body, and he was dying to get his daddy’s hands on him again. But Peter was just sitting there, legs spread wide to accommodate the visible bulge in his jeans while he basically eye-fucked Stiles.

Stiles wasn’t a patient person. He got tired of standing there modeling his skirt for Peter almost immediately, and made his way forward until he was standing between the werewolf’s legs, forcing Peter to look up if he wanted to meet Stiles’ gaze, or just the slightest bit downward to see the outline of Stiles’ cock beneath his skirt. He settled on flashing a quick grin up at Stiles before focusing his attention lower, hands curling around Stiles’ waist where his hipbones jutted out right above the top of the skirt. Then he was leaning closer, nosing at the waistband of the skirt and kissing low on Stiles’ stomach. His grip on Stiles’ waist was the only thing keeping him from thrusting his hips forward automatically when Peter ducked his head and mouthed at Stiles’ cock, the pressure and the heat of his mouth perfect even with two layers of fabric in the way. 

“Fuck, _Daddy_ , I need-” Stiles lost his train of thought before he could finish the sentence, captivated by the sight of Peter sucking and licking at his cock through his skirt and panties, at how filthy it looked and how good it felt. 

“What do you need, princess?” Peter looked up at him, one of those cocky smirks on his face, and Stiles discovered his arrogant, all-knowing expression was about a thousand times hotter when he was nuzzling at the bulge of Stiles’ cock.

“I need- need your mouth on my clit, please Daddy. Want you to eat me out.” Stiles struggled not to hide his face, shy and embarrassed and so ridiculously turned on, and he was rewarded when he got to see Peter’s eyes darken, his jaw clench as he let go of Stiles’ hip to palm his own cock, like he couldn’t help touching himself.

“You want Daddy to suck on your clit, lick your pussy until it’s all wet? Fuck you with my tongue until you squirt and you’re all open and ready for my cock?” Peter barely waited for Stiles’ nod before he continued with, “Get on the bed, princess. On your back.”

Once Stiles was laid out on the bed, Peter knelt between his legs, sliding his hands up the teenager’s thighs and beneath his skirt. He smiled at the way Stiles arched into his touch, leaned down to kiss him briefly before moving lower so he was at eye level with Stiles’ cock and his own hands where they pushed the skirt up high on Stiles’ thighs. It still covered enough that Stiles couldn’t see him anymore when he licked a broad stripe up his lace covered cock. Stiles cried out, hands clenching in his sheets while he stared down at where Peter’s head disappeared under his skirt. The sight would have made him laugh if it wasn’t so dirty, the culmination of countless fantasies he’d had but never thought he’d be able to live out. And Peter wasn’t stopping, kept soaking the front of his panties with teasing flicks of his tongue and open mouthed kisses, sucking at just the head of Stiles’ cock.

“Daddy! Oh my god, your mouth..” The image of Peter’s head moving under his skirt was too much; Stiles closed his eyes, moaning and praising and pleading with his daddy. Then the back of his panties were being pulled to the side, his hole fluttering as it was briefly bared to the cold air before Peter’s lips were moving down, his nose brushing against Stiles’ balls when he pressed close and circled the tip of his tongue around Stiles’ clenching rim. 

Stiles was surprised he didn’t come at that first touch of Peter’s tongue to his hole, his moans turning incoherent and wordless, a stream of choked, desperate sounds leaving his lips. He tilted his hips up to give Peter better access, felt the vibrations caused by the pleased noise his daddy made while his mouth was still on Stiles, tongue lapping more insistently against his hole now. Just when Stiles felt the muscle relax, his cock twitching and leaking precome when he thought of Peter fucking his tongue _inside_ Stiles, that was when he moved his attention upwards again. Stiles couldn’t exactly complain, not when that warm mouth was pressing sucking kisses up the length of his cock now, not when a dry finger replaced Peter’s tongue against his hole, just the tip pushing inside but it was enough. He came with Peter’s lips around the tip of his cock, his hole mouthing at the thick fingertip stretching it open.

Peter sucked at the head of his cock through his orgasm and the aftershocks, until Stiles was squirming and whining, over-sensitive but still clenching rhythmically around the finger inside him. When he finally sat up, Stiles’ skirt falling to cover his ruined panties, the sight of Peter’s mouth, red and wet and looking thoroughly fucked out, was enough to make Stiles moan again. He stared up at his daddy, open-mouthed and breathless while Peter’s finger slid out of him and he unbuttoned his pants.

“Did you like that, princess?” Peter took his cock out of the opening in his boxers, stroking it slowly.

Stiles tried to answer but the most he could do was nod enthusiastically, gaze locked on his daddy’s hard cock, thick and red and shiny with precome at the tip. God, he wanted that in his mouth. He reached out carefully, wrapping a hand around Peter’s cock, knocking the man’s own hand away as he gave a gentle, experimental squeeze of his hand. The action earned him a quiet groan, more precome leaking from the slit of Peter’s cock, and Stiles finally found the words he needed, said, “Daddy. Wanna suck your cock.”

He heard the surprised grunt, saw Peter’s hips jerk forward, fucking into his hand, and part of Stiles wanted to see the look on the older man’s face right now but his eyes were glued to the throbbing length in his hand. At least until his hand was being batted away, and Peter said, “Oh, you do? You want Daddy’s dick stretching your pretty lips so wide, filling up your mouth? Do you want to taste Daddy’s come?”

“Yes.” Stiles moaned, licked his lips as Peter moved up his body until his knees were resting beside Stiles’ shoulders and his cock was resting right in front of Stiles’ face. He stroked himself again, rubbed the wet tip of his cock over the teenager’s mouth and Stiles licked his lips again, partially on instinct and partially because he had to taste the precome smeared across his lips. Peter seemed to appreciate the action, cursing under his breath and tapping the head of his cock against Stiles’ lips again. “Open up, sweetheart.” He requested, and Stiles parted his lips right away, suckled at the first few inches of Peter’s cock that pushed into his mouth. 

“Good girl.” Peter groaned, one hand guiding his cock further into Stiles’ mouth while the other cupped the side of his face. “Such a good little cockslut for Daddy.”

The praise, especially the _good girl_ , made Stiles moan around his mouthful of Peter’s cock, made his face heat up even while Peter started to fuck his mouth slowly, keeping his thrusts shallow and gentle enough that Stiles didn’t gag. He gradually sped up, thrusting deeper and touching Stiles’ lips where they stretched around his cock. 

“Taking me so well.” He murmured, grinning when the words drew another muffled moan from Stiles, a flick of the teenager’s tongue along the vein that stood out on the underside of his cock. Stiles couldn’t see much of Peter from his position, but he still looked up for the occasional glimpse of his Daddy’s face, let himself get lost in the sensation of a dick sliding in and out of his mouth, the taste of it on his tongue. When Peter’s hips stuttered, his thrusts getting less careful, Stiles figured he was close and doubled his efforts, blinked up at his daddy while he sucked and licked and lifted his head up a bit to take Peter deeper. 

“There you go. Fuck, princess. Take it.” Peter tangled his hand in Stiles’ hair, pulling him off his cock until just the head rested on his tongue and he could watch himself come in Stiles’ mouth. Some of it spilled out of his mouth even as Stiles swallowed, his cock twitching weakly at the knowledge that he’d just sucked Peter off, was eagerly drinking down his come now. When Peter backed up, tucking his cock back into his pants, Stiles licked the last traces of come off of his lips and grinned up at his daddy.

“So I guess you like the skirt then, right?", he asked, his grin widening when Peter just laughed and leaned down to kiss him, licking the taste of his own come out of Stiles’ mouth.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much ending this fic with lots of fluff and a not very conclusive conclusion

The first thing Scott did when he saw Stiles at school on Thursday was press up close against him and sniff him thoroughly. 

“What the hell, man?” Stiles yelped, taking a step back and gaping at his best friend, who stared at him with his nose scrunched up and his head tilted to the side. He looked eerily similar to a confused puppy. 

“You smell different.” He offered by way of explanation for invading Stiles’ personal space and _smelling him_. “Did you have sex with someone?”

“Oh my god, what- you can smell when someone’s had sex? That is such an invasion of privacy.” Stiles proclaimed, choosing not to actually answer Scott’s question and starting to walk down the hall to his next class instead. Unfortunately, his next class was the same as Scott’s next class, and the werewolf just started walking along beside him, apparently not willing to drop the subject yet.

“It’s not like I can help smelling things.” He pointed out, and he managed to somehow sound guilty about it, which in turn made Stiles feel guilty for freaking out on him.

“I know you can’t help it, buddy.” Stiles patted his friend’s shoulder comfortingly. “Maybe just don’t go around actively sniffing people and asking if they’ve had sex anymore. I mean, I don’t know about other people but personally I’d rather not tell you about my sex life if that’s okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, okay. That’s fine.” Scott agreed quickly, flashing him a grin. Stiles breathed a sigh of relief, glad that Scott seemed willing to move on and hadn’t asked him anything along the lines of _”Are you fooling around with Peter Hale?”_ Then he added, “Congrats on the sex, though,” while looking all too pleased for Stiles, and he couldn’t help groaning dramatically and rolling his eyes.

 

He brought up the conversation while he was on the phone with Peter later that day. 

“So can werewolves really like, smell when someone’s been having sex? What does it smell like? What exactly is it that you smell? Is it come, or pheromones or something?” It was a sudden change of topic, but Stiles figured Peter was used to his short attention span and his tendency to blurt out whatever was on his mind at this point.

Peter sounded amused when he answered. “Yes, it smells like salt, musk, and bodily fluids, and all of the above. We can smell someone’s come, the scent of another person’s come on or in them even after it’s been washed off, and something similar to pheromones, although humans don’t leave their scent behind in quite the same way that most other animals do. Why do you ask?”

“Scott got all weird and started sniffing at me today, then asked if I’d had sex with someone recently.” He explained. “Do you think he’ll be able to figure out that I smell like you in particular?”

He could picture the contemplative expression that was probably on Peter’s face in the brief silence that followed, and then the wolf responded. “It’s possible, but I doubt he’s familiar enough with my scent to do that. Not that I’d care either way if any of the pack knew about us.”

“You wouldn’t?” Stiles was a little surprised. For some reason he’d figured Peter would want to keep their...relationship, or whatever this was, on the down low, if only because most of the pack would get suspicious of him and give him shit if they found out. 

Peter actually laughed at the shock in his tone. “Not at all. I like you, and I like what we have. I don’t need anyone to know about us, but I also don’t need them to approve if they do find out. You could even tell your friends about me if you wanted, I don’t mind.”

Stiles was sure he made an embarrassing, choked off noise as he struggled to think of a response, feeling way too mushy and giddy at Peter’s tone and how sweet he was being.

 

Stiles was grateful when no one else mentioned that he smelled like sex for the next few weeks, even though he most likely did smell. Him and Peter hadn’t actually fucked yet, but they did almost everything else, and even started spending more and more time together without doing anything sexual. He figured it was only a matter of time before someone in the pack noticed that he smelled like Peter, that Peter probably smelled like him, and that they both reeked of sex and figured out what was going on between them. That’s why he was considering just telling Scott and maybe a few of their other friends what was going on- it would be better if he told them instead of waiting for them to figure it out on their own, right? It would also be awkward, and potentially disastrous, and he didn’t even know what he should say. _”Hey guys, Peter and I have been screwing around and I like to call him Daddy sometimes”_? 

He’d started to wonder more and more what the pack would think of their relationship, or if they even had any sort of relationship to speak of. Sure, they spent a lot of time together, but were they dating? Did Peter just see him as a fuck buddy or a friend with benefits? One day while they were playing a video game together he couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself anymore. 

“What are we doing here, Peter?”

Peter glanced away from the tv and raised an eyebrow at Stiles. “We’re playing some mindless, violent game of yours because you insisted on it.” He replied lightly, but he looked concerned, evidently picking up on the worry in Stiles’ voice or the fact that he’d called him “Peter” when he was almost always just “Daddy” to Stiles. 

Scoffing and elbowing Peter for his lame response, Stiles shook his head and clarified. “I mean in general. Like, us. Are we just fooling around or are we dating, or-” He wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence and just cut himself short awkwardly instead, avoiding eye contact with the werewolf.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Peter put down his Xbox controller. Neither of them was paying any attention to their game anymore, the tv screen flashing and announcing the deaths of both of their characters. Peter ducked his head and met Stiles’ gaze before he answered with, “I was under the impression that we were dating. Do you not want that?”

Stiles’ eyes widened at the question. “No! No. I mean, yes? I would...I think I would kind of like it if we were dating. I just assumed you wouldn’t want that, that our thing- whatever we have- doesn’t mean as much to you? Which is totally cool, I’m not complaining. I just.” He gestured vaguely, face red as he forced himself to maintain eye contact throughout his nervous rambling. 

Oh no. Peter looked solemn now, maybe even a little upset even though he was smiling gently at Stiles, and what was even going on here? Why were they talking about relationships and feelings- what had Stiles done?

“You shouldn’t assume things, princess.” Peter chided, and part of Stiles relaxed automatically at the nickname. “Our relationship is important to me, and not just because of our shared kinks and activities in the bedroom. _You_ are important to me. And I’d certainly like it if you wanted us to be officially dating.”

Stiles could no longer resist the urge to lean in and kiss Peter, clutching at the front of his daddy’s shirt to hold him close while Stiles licked into his mouth. Just in case his actions weren’t a clear enough response on their own, he paused long enough to take a breath and say, “I totally want us to be officially dating.” He felt Peter’s smile against his lips. 

 

Surprisingly, the first person to find out about him and Peter wasn’t Scott. Stiles felt a little bad for not telling his best friend about his relationship before anyone else, but somehow he ended up going to Lydia about it first. She’d made comments occasionally about his “secret lover,” and one day when the two of them were studying together for an AP English test he found himself saying, “I have a boyfriend.”

“Obviously.” Lydia didn’t even look up from her notes. Stiles was almost offended by her lack of surprise or interest. “I mean, I wasn’t sure of the gender of your secret lover but everyone knows you’ve been seeing someone.”

Stiles made an indignant noise. “And no one bothered to- what? Wow. That’s just rude. Disrespectful, that’s what that is.” When it became clear that Lydia wasn’t going to ask him any questions about who his boyfriend was, he quietly added, “It’s Peter. I’m dating Peter Hale.”

Lydia finally looked up at him. She blinked, seemed to examine Stiles for a moment before asking, “Does he treat you well?”

That was not the response he’d been expecting. Frowning, Stiles nodded. “Yeah. He’s still an asshole, obviously, but he can also be really nice when it’s just the two of us? He treats me great, actually.”

Lydia returned his nod with a prim, approving nod of her own. “Do you feel safe around him?”

“Yes? Totally safe.” This was just getting weirder and weirder, Stiles thought. 

“Is everything between the two of you consensual?” was Lydia’s next question.

Stiles felt his face grow hot but he nodded emphatically. “We haven’t actually, um..had sex yet, but everything else- yeah.”

Lydia was apparently satisfied with his answer, because she smiled and reached out to pat Stiles’ hand briefly. “Good. Then I’m happy for you.”

Stiles was dumbfounded, staring at Lydia blankly long enough that she’d started to return her attention to studying when he finally blurted out, “That’s it? You’re not mad or freaked out or whatever?”

“I dated a homicidal lizard, Stiles. I don’t think I’ll ever be freaked out by anyone you date at this point. I don’t like Peter, or even trust him, but I trust you, and if you say he’s okay and that you’re happy with him then I believe you. Obviously I’m not going to be mad.” Lydia rolled her eyes. “You have the right to date whoever you want.”

Stiles was reminded then of how much he loved Lydia. She was probably the most rational person in their pack, even more so than Stiles. The others might lose their shit when they found out he was with Peter, but trust Lydia to handle it this calmly. He grinned at her, probably would have leaned over to hug her if he didn’t think she’d just get annoyed with him. “Thanks.” It wasn’t much of a response, but Stiles hoped she realized how grateful he was. Almost as an afterthought he added, “I haven’t told anyone else yet. Uh, I don’t think they’ll handle it as well as you though, so would you mind not mentioning it until I’m ready to tell the rest of the pack?”

"Your secret is safe with me. And Stiles? If anyone in the pack reacts badly to your relationship with Peter, just remember it's none of their business who you date and don't take anything they say too personally. Don't let them ruin this for you." 

It occurred to him again then- he loved Lydia Martin. So much. 

 

Lydia’s response to his relationship with Peter was making Stiles wonder if he should tell the rest of the pack sooner rather than later, and just get it over with. He knew most of them wouldn’t handle the news quite as well as his favorite banshee, but he was feeling more optimistic now. And, well, it was probably about time he stopped keeping his boyfriend a secret. Peter had told him repeatedly that he didn’t mind keeping their relationship hidden, that it was no one else’s business, that Stiles could tell who he wanted whenever he wanted- except his dad. Peter had tactfully pointed out that Stiles’ dad would be better off not knowing about them until Stiles was 18. Apparently the werewolf didn’t want to get arrested or killed for dating the sheriff’s underage son. Still, he wanted his friends to know who he was dating. He wanted to be able to gloat about his awesome, ridiculously hot boyfriend. Talking to Peter about it through text that day only solidified his decision to tell Scott and the rest of the pack in the near future. Not right away, when everything was going so well and he was getting more and more used to having Peter in his life, accepting that the werewolf actually _cared_ about him, but maybe someday soon.

**4:05 pm. Stiles: btw Lydia knows about us now. she’s cool with it**

**4:06 pm. Daddy: I’m glad. I know you want your friends to approve of us for some odd reason.**

**4:09 pm. Stiles: rude. u wouldnt understand bc u dont have any friends**

**4:10 pm. Daddy: You’re my friend.**

**4:12 pm. Stiles: omg**

**4:12 pm. Stiles: idk if thats sweet or embarrassing**

**4:13 pm. Daddy: It’s sweet, obviously. I could make friends if I wanted but why bother when I already have you?**

**4:15 pm. Stiles: Aww Daddy ;-* its still kinda embarrassing that ur a friendless nerd though. anyway I think I’m gonna tell Scott and the others about us soon if ur cool with that?**

**4:16 pm. Daddy: Of course. Just warn me in advance so I can prepare to face Derek’s judgemental pout of doom.**

**4:19 pm. Stiles: ur such a jerk <3 **

**4:20 pm. Daddy: Says the brattiest little boy on the planet. It’s why we’re such a good match.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This ending is seriously so unsatisfying and inconclusive forgive me)


End file.
